<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Belle and A Beast by adifferentshadeofgrey</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240051">Belle and A Beast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/adifferentshadeofgrey/pseuds/adifferentshadeofgrey'>adifferentshadeofgrey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:02:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/adifferentshadeofgrey/pseuds/adifferentshadeofgrey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione finds herself swept into an enchanted book, forced to live out it's plots if she ever wishes to make it back to her real life at school. Little did she know, she wasn't the only one pulled into the story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Belle and A Beast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Of all the things in the world Hermione was sure of, there were three pillars to which she held true above all else. </p><p>1. Fresh parchment had the most tantalizing smell.</p><p>2. The best fish and chips she'd ever had was from a small corner shop in Muggle London.</p><p>3. Draco Malfoy was a right bastard. </p><p>It was in stewing about her third most precious rule in the middle of the library sorting through old texts that Ms. Granger had found herself in a world of annoyance. Not an hour before, that slimy git had jinxed her pea soup to explode in her face during dinner. Now usually Hermione had the wits to let these antics slide in favor of not losing house points for petty squabbles, but this evening in particular had her nerves in a tizzy after Lavender Brown had the gall to laugh in her face, no doubt already preparing the morning gossip for her classmates. No, tonight above all else, Draco Malfoy had asked for it. Within a swish and flick of her wand, Draco's pumpkin pasty turned into a gourd before exploding all over his robes.</p><p>Hermione stifled back her laughter as he began shooting daggers in her direction. And as if the two had lit a fuse waiting to go off, the entire banquet hall erupted into shouts as jinxes and hexes were being slung back and forth across tables, food flying in every direction. It didn't take long for the professors to reign in the hijinks as well as pull both Granger and Malfoy out to receive punishment.</p><p>"You want us to do <em>what</em>?" Draco hissed. </p><p>Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Criminy sakes, Mr. Malfoy, it's not as if I've asked you to clean out the owlery with your bare hands. You and Ms. Granger should be thankful that all we're having you do is give Madam Pince a hand in the library. In fact if you ask me, it's letting you off quite easy considering the circumstances. Mr. Filch will be cleaning up the mess you two caused all night long thanks to the splattered hexes in there."</p><p>"How can you even call it a <em>punishment </em>for that— That frizzy haired bookworm?" Draco threw a glance at Hermione who was already sneering back. </p><p>"I may love books, <em>Malfoy</em>, but the last thing I want to be doing with my Friday night is sorting through them, with you of all people, when I could be up in the common room surrounded by friends, something of which I'm sure you know—"</p><p>"E<em>nough!</em>" McGonagall's voice boomed through the room. "As Head Boy and Girl, it's already embarrassing enough that we have to reprimand <em>either </em> of you. Not to mention the fact that the two of you can't seem to get along long enough to make it through the school year. If you two don't start turning over leaves, you will <em>both</em> be relieved of your duties. Do I make myself clear?"</p><p>The pair mumbled in agreement. </p><p>And within the hour the two were sent to Madam Pince to help sort through the books waiting to be returned— By hand. Leading to Granger's current predicament of trying to decipher the book in her stack that she was in charge of. Not only had she had a rotten day, but this book seemed to lack any title or indication of what the subject matter was on. It also didn't help that it had a traditional muggle lock, hiding the inside contents from prying eyes. The girl couldn't help but wonder how her lowly partner was faring on the other side of the room. Taking out her wand she glanced around to make sure Pince wasn't spying on her from some innocuous place before taking a seat at one of the tables before fiddling with the lock.</p><p>"I wouldn't do that I were you." A portrait of one of the previous librarians called from above. </p><p>Jumping in surprise, Hermione met the woman's pointed glare. "Why not? I'm supposed to be sorting through these aren't I? If I don't open it, then how am I supposed to know where it goes?"</p><p>Hermione couldn't help but notice how the woman's eyes seemed to twinkle even from her frame. "I believe there's a saying along the lines of 'the pleasurable sting of curiosity which demands the solving of an enigma leads to roads unknown'. It is always within interest to explore that which we know and leave the greatest mysteries of the world for others to survive for us to enjoy another day."</p><p>Hermione seemed to ponder these words for a moment before looking over the book. Why would have Madam Pince given it to her had it been meant to remain unread? It didn't make any sense. "I appreciate the late night wisdoms, Madam, but I'm assuredly going to be in a world of trouble if I don't finish this task. I'd rather face this unknown than the wrath of a tired librarian."</p><p>Looking up into the frame, the woman had already left leaving Hermione to a stark silence that seemed to chill her to the bone. Looking around once more, she took out her wand.</p><p>"<em>Alohomora</em>," The lock popped open.</p><p>
  <em>Dear reader. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>In this book you will find the answer to a problem you wish to solve. But beware the strings that bind your soul as your heart often knows less than your head. </em>
</p><p>The inscription was in a brilliant gold font that seemed to loop with deliberate delicacy. Flipping to the next page, Hermione found a page with a spell on it. </p><p>
  <em>Enemies divine<br/>
</em>
  <em>Betwixt by fate<br/>
</em>
  <em>Should fortune intervene<br/>
</em>
  <em>And weave love from hate</em><br/>

  <em>Then cast aside beauty untrue in disguise<br/>
</em>
  <em>Rewrite the slate with words spoken true:</em>
</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>As her eyes scanned the scrawl, her mouth began to read the final part of the inscription allowed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Banish the wizard with clouded sight</p>
</div><div>
  <p>‘Till he who is rotten</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Will understand my plight." As she spoke the final word, something in her gut began to twist as nausea washed over her. A funny feeling of sleep began to cloud her head. Somewhere from behind her she heard the chiming of an old clock hitting twelve. The last thing she remembered before the darkness washed over her is her head filling with lead before slamming down onto the table in front of her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The next morning she woke up covered in sheets, a splitting headache pulling her into the bright light of the room. Everything smelled sweeter— Like a fresh morning in the open aire. Looking around, the brunette began to realize she felt unfamiliar in her surroundings. Was she in a cottage? </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The small room had a single bed with modest furnishings that all seemed to be handmade. Reaching for her wand on her nightstand, she found it was empty. <em>Where am I?</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pushing herself out of the sheets, she found herself stumbling over to her dresser where she pulled out a soft blue dress. <em>Where did this come from?</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pulling it over her slip, Hermione creaked open her door to the smell of something wonderful coming from the kitchen. "Papa?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>An older gentleman with silver hair peeked out from his place at the stove. "Darling! You're awake. Could you give me a hand with breakfast? Grab the eggs from the shed will you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Glancing around, Hermione took in the cottage's old furnishings. How had she gotten here? She was just in the library at school... School? She went to one, didn't she? She couldn't quite recall. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Papa, where's mum?" The voice that left her throat seemed gravelly, as if she hadn't used it in a while.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The man turned, a concerned look on his face. He began to run his hand over her head, making the pounding double. "You must have hit your head harder than I thought, ma cher. Maybe you should sit down."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Doing as he said, Hermione plopped onto one of the wooden chairs near the table, confusion clouding her judgement. All of a sudden a mix of memories came flooding into her. Her father had moved with her to this cottage in rural France just shortly after her mother passed away in May. Mr. Granger had been working on a new invention to show at the World's Fair in a few weeks while Hermione was working on finding a way out of her new life. She'd been living as a farm girl for way too long. Ms. Granger was looking for greater meaning than the small town life. At least until then, she had her books to keep her company. </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>